This Could Get Messy
by Andrei Rian
Summary: Fun times with the Banshee pilot from StarCraft 2. one shot. Rated M


**This Could Get Messy**

* * *

I was finally finished.

It had been a late day, and the sun was setting on Korhal. Surrounding the military platform, a desert expanse spread in every direction, courtesy of the still relatively recent nuclear apocalypse. The main cities of the planet might be rebuilt, but that catastrophic of an event could never be truly forgotten. One only needed to go into the outlands for a reminder.

I removed the tool I had been using and closed the repair hatch, stepping backwards to take a look at my handiwork as I cleaned my hands thoroughly. Framed impressively against the sunset, the now functional AH/G-24 Banshee Tactical-Strike Aircraft shone in the fading dusk light, a beautiful piece of functioning Terran military technology. The repair platform was deserted; most of the others had already left, save for me and the Banshee pilot herself. I had told her the repair would be well into the evening, but a strange look had come into her eyes. She had said she would wait, and do some flight checks in the cockpit.

Fine by me. The Banshee pilot was not uncomely, a sassy dark-haired dark-eyed beauty with wry humor. She might never give me a second look, but I certainly had for her. But I was a mere mechanic for her "give-em-hell o-copter"; she had likely never noticed me.

I started to climb the ladder towards the popped open cockpit. She had a right to know I was done, after how long she had waited. As I approached, I heard a soft sound, a rustling of some kind. I popped my head over the side of the strike aircraft to look for her.

The Banshee pilot was in her flight suit and helmet, but she had removed her gloves. One hand was placed deep into her pants at the juncture between her thighs, the other gripping and ungripping at herself in pleasure. The rustling was that of hand on cloth as she worked herself furiously, her head leaning to one side, eyes closed in pleasure.

The sight was so startling that I nearly lost my balance. Stumbling back, off balance, I lost a rung and cried out. The Banshee pilot's eyes shot open. She looked at me.

The Banshee pilot was not an confident woman; most pilots weren't. Instead of the shyness of others, she simply said "Holla back", her hand continuing its ministrations of self-pleasure.

"Uhh hi." I grasped for words. "I just thought you should know I was done."

"Are you?" she said. "I don't think you are."

Oblivious, I forced my eyes away from the lovely sight of her masturbation to the combat aircraft around her. "I'm sure. I tested the power converter, it is-"

"That's not what I meant." She looked at him. "We ain't got all day."

Her free hand moved upwards. With an expectant glance, she gestured me inside the cockpit with her index finger.

Well, even to someone as oblivious as me, I understand that quite well. I climbed inside the cockpit. It was not quite designed for two but there was space enough on each side that I didn't displace her from the seat. She looked at me there next to her, her breath panting, her hand still working inside herself as she spoke.

"I'm burning fuel here, smart guy," the Banshee pilot said. "I'll make you a deal. Help me...and maybe I can help you."

Again I groped for words. Sputtering, I made some incoherent sounds, but the Banshee pilot reached her hand out from her folds. With glistening fingers she reached one to my lips to silence me, sticky with the feel of her cunt juices.

Then she grabbed my right hand and brought it inside her flight suit at the same point she had been reaching before. Slowly, the Banshee pilot guided my hand down her body. She had been at work for some time, and there no small amount of moisture developing inside her flight suit, but it was nothing compared to that of her sex. I could feel the heat radiating outwards from it and the obvious smell of her growing arousal.

I felt my hand pass the gentle crevice of her belly button, guided further down. I looked into her brown eyes and saw her looking into mine as she led me to her destination. My hand moved through a nest of pubic hair and further down, until I reached the slickness that marked the folds of her vagina. All around my hand I felt the steamy heat of her sex.

"I'm gonna enjoy this," she said, as her hand left mine. I slowly began to massage the outer lips of her vagina, torturously. The pace was clearly not enough for this beautifully outgoing woman. She rocked her hips back and forth to encourage more speed.

I felt I could not deny her. I started to rub her cunt even faster, and her full lips parted at the sensation. A strand of brown hair escaped the confine of her helmets on either side to frame her face, swaying as she moved her head in soundless pleasure.

I continued that way for some time, watching the play of emotions and rapture across her face. Then I slowly, carefully, inserted my index finger inside her. Just the tip to start, then further, and further, until it was fully captured inside that slick cunt. Her mouth opened wider and wider into an "o" as I did so.

I slid my index finger out and then back in again, continuing to rub with the other fingers. I was a dexterous man, and my strong fingers soon had the Banshee pilot shaking her head in pleasure.

A second finger I slid inside her, this one my middle finger, Longer than the first, it actually caused the first erotic sound to emerge from her mouth, an exhale with the slightest hint of a moan on it. I continued my efforts.

By the time my third finger was inside her, the Banshee pilot was a mess. Rocking back and forth, her eyes were closed, her head thrown back in ecstasy. With one hand she guided my hand working furiously inside her, occasionally squeezing. My hand was soaking with her fluids, and I knew she was close. I leaned forward to kiss her on the lips. If I was damn fortunate enough to do this, I was going to do it right.

"Cum for me, baby," I said, breaking the kiss. At the words, her eyes shot open to regard mine. I brought my pinky inside her and increased the pace. The Banshee pilot gave out a cry, then a moan, then suddenly her whole body began convulsing. Her large breasts heaved through the flight suit, her body lengthening in the throes of orgasm. A flood of juices covered my hand but I did not stop giving her the pleasure she so ardently needed. Losing all pretense of inhibition, the Banshee pilot screamed like her namesake, a piercing expression of pleasure.

I continued fingering her even as her scream ended and her body convulsed forward. She grabbed at me with her other hand, rising out of the seat. I could feel her muscles contracting against my fingers for a few moments more, her pussy spasming in long-desired release. Then, finally, she was done, still gripping me fiercely as she looked down at herself and my hand inside her pants. She brought her helmeted head in contact with my shoulder, embracing me as she experienced a particularly strong aftershock, my fingers still at work inside her.

I didn't stop until she finally bestirred herself to remove my hand, gently pushing my hand away with an insistent pressure. I brought my hand out of the moist mess of her pussy, my fingers glimmering with her arousal. "Screaming fury," she said wryly between breaths as she saw that sight, and I chuckled. She met my hand with her own, guiding me up to her face, studying my hand with an inquisitive and hungry stare.

One by one she brought my fingers into her mouth, sucking her own juices off of them with relish. The heat of her mouth on even my fingers was torturously wonderful. Her face was locked in rapture as she cleaned every one of my fingers.

"Thanks for the...props."

"Any time," I said. "Glad to help."

"I'm gonna enjoy this too." She reached her hands out to the front of my trousers. Inside, my cock was already hard from the sight of this beautiful woman reaching orgasm. Torturously, she traced my manhood beneath the cloth. Then she pulled both my pants and my boxers down in one fell swoop.

The sight of my manhood made her eyes widen. "This could get messy," she commented at the glistening penis before her eyes. Then she brought her head forward. The full lipped mouth opened, the brown eyes peered upwards to meet mine. And then my dick entered her warm, welcoming, moist mouth.

She continued to descend further upon my dick, her beautiful dark hair escaping in strands from her flight helmet, her dark eyes drawn downward for my pleasure. Then she reached the bottom, and I could feel my sizable penis touch the back of her throat. She did not choke, and it gave me wonderful pleasure to know she was not inexperienced. How could this ravishing beauty be?

The Banshee pilot began to add more suction onto my cock. Her tongue torturously teased the tip of my dick. In particular, she targeted my slit, a curious feeling I had never known before but hoped to feel again. I threw my own head back at her ministrations. She slid her head back off my dick, letting a trail of saliva and no small amount of precum connecting mouth and cock. Then she slid back again, picking up a steady pace of experienced, skillful cock-sucking.

It continued that way for some time, how long, I could not know. All I could know was that I was the luckiest man in the Sector, being sucked off by this gorgeous Banshee pilot. I saw my cock disappearing into that wonderful hot cave, parting those pink lips, and my dick began to throb.

"I'm about to come, baby."

The Banshee pilot slid off my dick, but not before stopping at the tip and giving me a torturously strong suck. "Let's not waste it like this. I've heard many men like the way the air tube looks on me."

It took me a moment in my pleasure to realize what she meant: the tube nestled in the cleft her flight suit made between both wonderfully large breasts. As she pulled the tube off to the side, I put my legs around her waist and tiled my back backwards. It was a mildly uncomfortable position, but I knew I didn't have long. My dick rested solidly where the air tube had been, and I looked at her from below as my rock hard, glistening dick parted her two luscious mounds.

She moved one hand onto my dick, and then the other. The Banshee began to pump my erection with a furious pace, using both hands to apply greater pressure. She smiled at me and my dick as I rocked it backwards and forwards into her own moving hands, my cock sliding back and forth between her breasts.

The tittyfuck continued that way until I once more felt my orgasm approaching. "Here it comes!" I said. Immediately, the Banshee increased her pace. Her full lips parted to open her mouth to receive anything I could send that high. "I knew this could get messy," she said huskily. "But that was what I always wanted."

Those words and her unceasing efforts set me right off. Looking deeply into her eyes and seeing her own hunger there, I knew that the moment could not be more ripe. My dick surged forward between her grasping hands and shot a string of sperm right up onto her face. It caught her high on the nose, causing her to flinch but thankfully avoided her eyes. Again and again my cock contracted, sending load after load of jism up her body. The Banshee did not stop her furious ministrations, milking my cock for all it was worth with deft fingers and furious pumps.

My second spurt caught her open mouth, catching her lip with the edge. She moaned at the sensation, sending her tongue to dart out to catch the residue. The sight was enough to send my third as high, sending a string of sperm across her lips and tongue. Again she flicked her tongue out as my fourth shot flickered up to her neck, sending a trail of white fluid up her grey flight suit.

My last spurts doused the front of her suit with my sperm. Both mounds were covered by the time we were done, heaving as they were at her exertions. The Banshee was a beautiful mess, my jism still leaking down her nose into her mouth, her mouth still glazed wetly, her suit front mottled with seed. Giving me a couple last pumps, she moved her hands off my spent dick to regard her body. With a deft flick, she brought a trail of escaping seed from the corner of her mouth back inside, then contemplated her jizz-stained fingers and sucked them one by one.

I was exhausted. Lifting myself from my awkward perch, I pulled my pants back up as I watched her clean herself off. The Banshee cleaned my sperm from her face in a functional, no-nonsense way, taking care to flick globs of my load back into her mouth. As she finished, she looked back at me, opening her mouth to reveal my jism floating inside, then she closed it and swallowed sexily while keeping eye contact the whole time.

Then she finally looked down at her suit.

"What a mess you made. I guess I did ask for it."

"You did," I said.

"A bargain was struck, and fulfilled. Done and done." She looked at me, my jism leaking further down the swell of her breasts with the force of gravity. "I'll have to clean myself off somehow. Hopefully you don't stain or we could be in trouble."

"'I'll help, a small price to pay." I contemplated her features once more. "But only if you allow me to let off some of your steam in the future."

The Banshee pilot regarded me. I could tell she was thinking about the experience, both her own orgasm and my own performance. Then she suddenly smiled.

"That's fine."


End file.
